


Unexpected Visitor

by EveningStarcatcher



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Silly, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningStarcatcher/pseuds/EveningStarcatcher
Summary: Nanny is spending a day with Warlock when she senses something amiss in the gardener's cottage...Written for Name That Author Round 2Rules: Fics must be 500 words or fewer, rated T or below, and contain the line "I hated that wallpaper, anyway."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Nanny Ashtoreth & Warlock Dowling, Nanny Ashtoreth/Brother Francis (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 52
Collections: Name That Author Round Two





	Unexpected Visitor

Nanny sat on a bench under the shade of a large oak tree watching Warlock as he slid through the wet grass and jumped between puddles, laughing and howling. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his clothes were wet and muddy, and his eyes were bright as his grin brightened his features.

“Come on, Nanny!” he cried, waving her over.

“Not today. Wrong shoes.” She had one knee neatly crossed over the other and wiggled her foot to indicate her delicate heeled boots.

“Do you think Brother Francis would play with me?” He asked, searching for the gardener.

“No, dear. I think it’s time for us to head inside.” She stood and smoothed her skirt.

“I haven’t seen him in  _ forever _ ,” Warlock whined.

“He’s not out when it rains.” She let her eyes drift over to the cozy little cottage where the gardener was surely settled in a plush chair with a book. A tartan blanket may or may not be involved.

Her ears pricked up as she heard a noise from inside.

Her eyes narrowed and she saw the brief flutter of curtain and an unfamiliar shadow. 

“Go inside. Tell your mother to lock the door, then go wash.” Nanny’s voice was monotone, even, her spine ramrod straight, shoulders and jaw set.

“Why?”

“Jussssst do it.” Nanny commanded with a curl of her lip, then she stalked to the cottage.

She reached the door and hesitated, listening to the stuffing inside - waiting, coiled, ready to strike at the first sign of trouble.

“Please, no! Get out!” cried the voice within.

Nanny threw open the door and ran in wildly. Her glasses were thrown aside, her claws long and sharp. She attacked the invader before she could identify him.

He moved fast, darting around, sticking to the walls, jumping between furniture and shelves lightning-quick. She followed only a moment behind, grunting and hissing vaguely aware of a voice behind her, but the adrenaline in her veins thrummed with only one thought:  _ protect _ .

“NANNY!” The voice insisted with a shout.

She froze and turned slowly, meeting his wide-eyed gaze, surprised with just a hint of amusement. “Whatever are you doing?” His hands were raised, a thick leather book held as a weapon.

“You were in trouble!” 

She heard a scuttling sound and turned just in time to see a bushy tail disappear around the door frame and into the bushes outside.

“A  _ ssssssquirrel _ ?” she hissed.

“I’m afraid so. Thank you for the rescue.” He chuckled and set the book on the arm of his chair.

“What were you going to do with that?” She glared at it.

“It was on hand! My sword is long gone and I don’t have claws,” he smirked.

She grimaced and surveyed the damage to the small space. Books were strewn about, furniture toppled, and there were claw marks on the walls - great, long gashes that tore through the wallpaper and into the drywall.

“Sorry,” she shrugged.

“My dear, I hated that wallpaper anyway.”


End file.
